


Hold Me In Thy Heart

by TranquilityOfSolitude



Category: Hamlet - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works, William Shakespeare - Fandom
Genre: Everyone Is Gay, F/F, M/M, Seriously im not kidding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23981725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TranquilityOfSolitude/pseuds/TranquilityOfSolitude
Summary: @big house: Heather is a milfHamlet AU set in modern times. Hamlet is an Emo, but he goes to therapy at the urging of his best friend Horatio, with whom he has fallen in love. Everybody works through their feelings in a healthy way. Everybody lives. :)And the ghost of Oscar Wilde shows up to encourage everyone to be gay.Written in blank verse/iambic pentameter. I tried my best guys
Relationships: Bernardo & Marcellus (Hamlet), Gertrude/Ophelia (Hamlet), Hamlet & Horatio, Polonius/Claudius, everyone is gay - Relationship, literally everyone is gay i'm not kidding
Comments: 16
Kudos: 8





	1. Act I

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about spelling errors. Proofreading? I don't know her. Anyway, in the spirit of Willm Shaksper, I shoulde realie be spellynge lyke thisse.

Act 1, Scene 1

_MARCELLUS and BERNARDO on the BATTLEMENTS, well after midnight._

BERNARDO: A moment, sweet Marcellus, spare thy touch;

I hear a noise approaching, else I dream.

 _[Turns on flashlight]_ Who goes there?

MARCELLUS: No one, Bernardo; thine ears are deciev'd,

Thy senses thrilled to sensitivity.

BERNARDO: Nay, I hear the noise again. Who is't?

_Enter HORATIO in the shadows, newly arrived from university, wearing a University of Wittenberg sweatshirt, Ray Ban Wayfarers, and carrying a suitcase._

HORATIO: 'Tis I, Bernardo. Hail.

BERNARDO: Horatio!

HORATIO: None other. Thee, Marcellus, do I mark?

MARCELLUS: Marry, my lord.

HORATIO: What brings you to your post

So late in Night's descent? The Moon is low;

Already are Dawn's fingers in the sky.

MARCELLUS: 'Tis nothing, lord.

BERNARDO: Aye, nothing, lord, indeed.

HORATIO: Then Nothing is a goodly game to play!

Would that I had more Nothing in my way.

_Exit HORATIO._

_[End Scene]_

_Scene ii_

_The sun is rising. HAMLET is shaving in front of his bathroom mirror. “Vampires Will Never Hurt You” by My Chemical Romance is playing from a Bluetooth speaker on the counter-top._

HAMLET: I ask'd not, on the day I was conceived,

To be a man or woman, or to be!

I asked for naught, but least of all, these barbs

To pierce my flawless skin each time I rise;

Each morn, to see this shadow in the glass

That mars an else-wise fair and handsome face;

To take the razor to't, and by fierce labor

Set right my aspect. Now the deed is done!

The smoothness is restored! How sweet that looks,

How pale and deathlike. Now for the last touch –

To set off the skin's pallor, nothing is finer

Than lib'ral application of eyeliner.

_[A knock on the door.]_

Gentle! Th' application was near marr'd.

This is a ginger process. 'Tis unlocked.

_Enter HORATIO through the door._

HORATIO: Hamlet, my lord.

HAMLET: Horatio, my friend!

How long since last we met?

HORATIO: Nigh on a year –

I swore to come to Denmark in all haste,

As thou recall'st, but Study hindered me.

HAMLET: A year? It seems a score of years, or more,

For I have missed thee with mine every breath.

Hast taken thy degree? Or wilt thou go

And leave me once again, come start of term?

HORATIO: I have my Master's in Psychology!

HAMLET: Thou always hast been master over mine.

But, if thou art so learned in the field,

Then tell me this – what is my malady,

That each day, I draw breath in blackest pain

And think nothing but sorrows?

HORATIO: Soft, my lord,

I have a Master's not a Doctorate,

And cannot diagnose thy mental ills.

But in a confidential sense, I'll say –

And take this as no more than conjecture –

Methinks that thou art clinically depress'd.

Thy symptoms all align: the apathy,

The blackness and the sorrow, and the woe,

The heaviness on waking, which lifts not

But grows more heavy as the day wears on –

All these are marks of that sad affliction.

But take it not to heart! To be more sure,

Thou must to a psychiatrist defer.

HAMLET: Know'st thou of one?

HORATIO: I know a good one, yea.

She liveth in the city. Doctor Bjork

Is her name; but O, her time is very dear:

Twelve ducats for an hour.

HAMLET: Why say'st ducats?

We are in Denmark. Kroner are our coin.

HORATIO: I know't, but Shakespeare was not so well-vers'd.

HAMLET: No matter. I would see this Doctor Bjork.

Take me to her.

HORATIO: We'll go within the week.

I'll be hard-pressed to buy an hour from her,

But certainly at mention of your name,

Her schedule hastily will rearrange.

HAMLET: Thou must not give my name to her! 'Twould be

Disaster if my mother knew of this.

HORATIO: She will not! There's a law in medicine

Call'd patient confidentiality.

Thy doctor is not legally allowed

To publish information of thy case

Without written consent, or proper cause.

HAMLET: What's proper cause?

HORATIO: If thou should'st threaten harm

Against thyself or others; if thou wert

Beneath thy mother's guardianship, she might

Be made aware of those propensities.

HAMLET: But I am well on twenty years of age.

Surely the doctor'd sooner tell the law

Than bring those tidings to my mother's ears –

And better for it, too! That weak woman

Would naught accomplish but to weep and moan.

HORATIO: You should not speak with venom of her so.

HAMLET: Forgive, Horatio; I did not seek

To sting thee with my words. But come away!

Thou must be tired, but hungrier even still!

Accompany me to the breakfast board.

HORATIO: There's nothing I should better like, my lord.

_[End Scene]_

_Scene iii_

_CLAUDIUS and GERTRUDE are having breakfast in the main dining hall._

CLAUDIUS: It has been brought recently to our ears

That Hamlet's closest friend from Wittenberg,

One called Horatio, is newly come.

Hast met him, Gertrude?

GERTRUDE: Yea, I think I have.

CLAUDIUS: Have I?

GERTRUDE: If I did, then thou must have too.

CLAUDIUS: Remind me; I recall him not.

GERTRUDE: 'Twas once

When Hamlet had returned to visit us

He brought with him his friend, Horatio.

CLAUDIUS: What thought you?

GERTRUDE: That he was a kindly boy.

CLAUDIUS: What thought I?

GERTRUDE: That he had bad effect

On Hamlet. I believe the term employed

Was something sland'rous and derogat'ry.

CLAUDIUS: Ah, he was a f-

GERTRUDE: Stop! I wish thou would'st

Not use that word while Hamlet's in the house.

CLAUDIUS: Think'st thou that Hamlet is a –?

GERTRUDE: No, indeed;

But well thou know'st of my son's tender heart.

It would not do to say that word to him,

The moreso if his friend is truly such.

_Enter POLONIUS, wearing socks with sandals._

POLONIUS: Good morning, King, my Sovereign, Lord, and Liege.

Good morning to you also, Queen Gertrude.

CLAUDIUS: At ease, Polonius. What brings you hence

With such a grin as graces those your lips?

POLONIUS: My Lord, perhaps the tidings already

Have reached your wise and kingly open ears –

Which are so open and so wise, my lord,

As to be worthy of what praise I give,

Though all my praise by nature must fall short

Of bounding those their virtues in my words.

CLAUDIUS: What tidings might these be, Polonius?

POLONIUS: Only the following, my lord and king:

That the Prince Hamlet's fellow, hence from school

In Wittenburg, hath traveled, since the term,

To visit Hamlet for a little time.

Horatio his name, if I recall,

And goodly fair his aspect and his face,

Though – may I take the liberty to say -

His vestments want for taste and tactfulness.

He wears a cowl, a most distasteful sight,

With “University of Wittenburg”

Writ on the front; and over both his eyes,

A pair of lenses of reflective hue,

Which, when I dared inquire their purpose,

He pronounced a “snazzy pair of shades.”

'Twas most uncouth. I dared not be unkind,

But scorned his garb secretly in my mind.

GERTRUDE: 'Twas bold of you to take so strong a stand:

You mocked the sea while standing on wet sand.

CLAUDIUS: Tell me more of this Horatio.

How is he? How is his character?

Be he a man of virtue upstanding,

Or some degenerate? What be his creed,

Philosophies, convictions, and beliefs?

Is he a good man to befriend our son?

Or will he drive Hamlet to misery?

POLONIUS: To further misery, my lord, you mean;

Poor Hamlet is already soaked in woe,

Which started long before this guest arrived,

And will outlast him long, in likelihood.

In any case, it will not do to grant

Horatio the credit for the grief.

CLAUDIUS: Pray answer me the question.

POLONIUS: Yes, my lord -

I was about to do so, when you said

Those latest words of kingly wisdom.

CLAUDIUS: Pray.

POLONIUS: My lord! Good king! Bear with. Horatio

A good enough companion seems to be

To your son Hamlet. Few, I must confess,

Are capable of friendship with your son.

My own, Laertes, who's so kind and meek

One might imagine he could ne'er do wrong –

Though I, his father, know that to be false,

And learned it harshly when he was a boy! -

Laertes, who has known your Hamlet, said

That he could not endure his company.

Far too morose, he told me, and too dark

To bear in conversation very long;

He could not leave off of the topic Death,

But spoke of it for hours, Laertes said,

Until, Laertes said, he felt so glum –

Laertes, not Hamlet, I mean, was glum,

Though Hamlet also was, I'm sure, as seems

His normal state – Laertes felt so low

He thought only of dying for some days.

It pained my heart to see my son so sad,

So I forebade him Hamlet's company.

I think it was no chore to be foregone.

GERTRUDE: The King asked of Horatio, my lord,

But you have spoken at length of my son

And said nothing too good. I've half a mind

To bid you be removed at once from me.

CLAUDIUS: At ease, my Queen. Thy temper is too strong.

Polonius, give me one answer brief:

Think'st thou Horatio doth love our son?

POLONIUS: A meet question, my King, and profound too –

For how know we that any friend is true?

'Tis not impossible Horatio be

Agent for the Norweyans, or a spy

Of some force that would fain usurp your throne.

I think it likely, more than this, that he,

The boy, is just a man who loves his friend

And fain would see him smile. He loves your son,

Yea, this I say with strong conviction

That grows with repetition but more strong.

He loves your son, and he hath loved him long.

CLAUDIUS: But in what way?

POLONIUS: My lord?

CLAUDIUS: Loves in what way?

POLONIUS: Only the best and purest way, my lord,

As servants love their masters, or their kings;

As Patroclus his cousin Achilles,

As the Moon the Sun which he pursues.

GERTRUDE: Hark! I hear footsteps. Here comes he now.

_[Enter HAMLET and HORATIO]_

HAMLET: My friend is tired and half-starved. What's this

To slake his hunger? Dust and rotted meat?

This is poor provender for my dear friend

Who traversed fen and road to reunite

Himself with me. For that display of courage

Methinks he is deserving of a meal

Fit for a king. Ah, look! Here is a king!

Good day, my lord! Thought thou this food was fit

For a king's mouth? Horatio's is as good.

It matters not, then, if the food be fit;

A king's meal and a peasant's end the same.

CLAUDIUS: Good day, Hamlet. Good day, Horatio.

HORATIO: Good morning, King. I am already known to you?

CLAUDIUS: Only by name, though perhaps we have met

A time or two before. I have heard much

Of you.

HORATIO: Of me? From whom, my lord?

CLAUDIUS: My pages, my advisers, and the like.

HORATIO: Not from your son, my lord?

CLAUDIUS: Perhaps, little.

GERTRUDE: Thou seem'st crestfallen, sir. What is the rub?

HAMLET: 'Tis nothing, Queen, but that he is weary,

And, given any choice, would rather forego

The pains of being forced to concentrate

On addressing a queen and king. Surely

You will understand his reluctance.

GERTRUDE: Surely. My lord, we'll presently retire.

_[Exeunt GERTRUDE with CLAUDIUS]_

POLONIUS: That will be my exit too, my lord.

_[Exit POLONIUS]_

HAMLET: We are now rid of all those tiresome fools.

Be thee at ease a while, Horatio,

And let us break our fast in blissful peace.

_End Scene_

_Scene iv_

_OPHELIA is sitting on her bed crying. The walls are lined with posters of bands that indicate to us that this is most definitely a Straight Girl's room. She is writing in a pink diary. She looks up dreamily, crying, and speaks._

OPHELIA: O, such a tender face; such tender eyes!

Such lips that ask, whisper of being kissed

Without words; and yet, they kiss not me!

They are of perfect form and ideal shape

So as to be most suited to the task

Of telling me they love me, and none else;

And yet they never do! Whom do they speak

Those words to, if not me? For't cannot be

That lips so fair have ne'er spoken those words.

O, folly me! O curse me down, sweet Christ!

If Hamlet loves me not, how can I live?

I've sworn it, and will swear ten thousand times

That never have I seen a human face

More pious and contrite than when in prayer,

Hamlet doth kneel upon the chapel floor;

Never a form more lithe than Hamlet is

While at swordplay – how he writhes and races,

Stinging, mocking his opponent's blade!

And ne'er have I seen a tear that rent my heart

Deeper than Hamlet's at his father's grave.

I close my eyes and see it even now!

I had hid myself behind a tree,

Having been in the graveyard when he approached.

I watched transfixed upon him as he came

Walking slow, as if a great weight burdened

His weary shoulders, down the graveyard path.

He halted at his father's fresh-sealed grave,

Whose dirt-churned mound was strewn with fun'ral flow'rs.

He fell then too his knees – I thought in prayer,

But saw then that it was more near to grief

Than piety; but surely, if tears be prayers,

He prayed then more devoutly than a priest.

If God was present in that dismal yard

And heard those tears, and hath a piteous heart,

Hamlet hath moved it. Never have I seen

A man of more sincerity in his grief,

Of more conviction, or in greater pain.

Since then – his father's death – I marked a change

In poor Hamlet's demeanor; dark and cold

His mind and heart have grown, and he ne'er casts

A glance in my direction. O, I swear,

I'll see him smile again before I die!

_[Enter POLONIUS]_

POLONIUS: Good morn, Ophelia – I came to see

If you had waked; 'tis clear now that you have.

Hold – mark I tears upon that face? Why tears?

What is your malady, my girl?

OPHELIA: My lord,

You would not understand if I did tell.

POLONIUS: You do your father favors few, my dear.

I've lived and loved for many times your years;

Whatever youthful pains and woes plague you,

I'll understand them. Tell, Ophelia.

OPHELIA: I am in love with Prince Hamlet, father.

POLONIUS: Is that so ill?

OPHELIA: He returns not my love.

POLONIUS: Ah. Now I see't.

OPHELIA: Well, what do you say?

POLONIUS: It is a natural thing of life, my dear,

That when we dispatch tenders of our love,

They must sometimes return with no token,

Or not return at all. The pain is hard

And seems interminable, but in truth,

It soon shall pass. Thy love for him shall fade,

As do the stars in a paling sky, and soon

You'll smile again, and leave Hamlet behind.

OPHELIA: Think you not that my love hath a chance?

Is't not possible that it might be returned?

POLONIUS: Nay, not if I'm a man, Ophelia,

And not if I have eyes, and ears: I know

That Hamlet's love is elsewhere occupied,

And will not spare a moment for thy sake.

OPHELIA: What! This is news to me. What woman is't?

POLONIUS: It matters not.

OPHELIA: It does to me. But well –

What tidings come?

POLONIUS: Thy brother Laertes

Returneth from England on this very day!

OPHELIA: That will be merry! How I've missed the man.

POLONIUS: Yea, merry indeed. I'll go now to the port.

OPHELIA: God buy ye. _[Aside]_ And good riddance to ye too.

I'll go to th' woods to think upon my love.

_[Exeunt]_

_End Scene_


	2. Act II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know Laertes went to France in the play. But I forgot that when I wrote this act, and didn't feel like rewriting it, so in this interpretation he goes to England to hang out with the English lads.

Act II, Scene I

_HAMLET and HORATIO in the car, on their way to Dr. Bjork's office. HORATIO is driving, while Hamlet's phone is plugged into the Aux Cord, blasting I Never Told You What I Do For A Living by My Chemical Romance._

HAMLET: Horatio, my friend, I am afraid

Of this new form of cure called “therapy.”

HORATIO: Not new, Hamlet, 'tis old – it hath its roots

In Sigmund Freud, the German psychiatrist

Who pioneered psychotherapy

In th' nineteen-tens and twenties. 'Tis not new.

HAMLET: 'Tis new to me. Thou art too learned, though,

To be a help to me in this dark time –

I care not for the history of th' art,

But for some reassurance. Must I speak

The truth, and bare my heart for her to see?

HORATIO: If wish'st to have her aid, I would advise 't.

HAMLET: O, folly. Turn around the car, my friend,

And take me back to Elsinore. I cann't.

HORATIO: Thou canst, Hamlet, and thou wilt see this through.

Thou need'st not e'er return if she helps not.

HAMLET: Marry, my friend, but still I am anxious.

HORATIO: I'm proud that thou art making this advance.

_They arrive at DR BJORK'S office._

_[Enter DR BJORK]_

DR BJORK: One “Prince Hamlet of Denmark,” enter now.

Is this thy friend? Decide if he shall join.

HORATIO: I'll stay behind, and thou shalt go alone –

I'll be here waiting when thy time is up.

I am to Starbucks now, to buy a drink.

Wilt thou have something?

HAMLET: Yea, a shot of bleach.

HORATIO: Forsooth, Hamlet, thou art an edgelord.

_[Exit HORATIO.] HAMLET and DR BJORK enter her office._

DR BJORK: Good morning, then Prince Hamlet.

HAMLET: Doctor Bjork.

DR BJORK: What brings you, Prince, so hastily to me?

Your friend call'd not a couple days ago,

And already you come. Are you in pain?

HAMLET: To say I am in pain would be to lie.

DR BJORK: Then thou art well?

HAMLET: Well? Nay, I am not well.

DR BJORK: Pray, be more clear.

HAMLET: To say I am in pain

Would be a lie, for _pain_ 's too weak a word

To capture what I feel. Prometheus,

Each morning when his liver was consum'd,

Had only just begun to know the half

Of what I feel each morning when I wake

And find I still draw breath, and have not pass'd

Into peaceful oblivion in the night.

DR BJORK: If you wish to die,

Why have you not yet done so by your hand?

HAMLET: I fear the aftermath.

DR BJORK: Your loved ones' sorrow?

HAMLET: My own fate – that of my immortal soul.

'Tis said that suicides go straight to hell.

DR BJORK: Thou art a Catholic, then?

HAMLET: Yea, but not good.

DR BJORK: Hast done the Sacraments?

HAMLET: And sins beside.

DR BJORK: Tell me of them.

HAMLET: Then tell me first, Doctor,

Of Patient Confidentiality.

Horatio did explain 't, but to hear

Your confirmation would set me at ease.

DR BJORK: Very well. I'll do what must be done.

_End Scene_

_Scene ii_

_LAERTES has just arrived at Elsinore from the port, LAERTES with his suitcases. OPHELIA is waiting there. She and LAERTES rush to embrace._

LAERTES: Dear sister, how I've missed thy lovely smile.

OPHELIA: And I thine, brother; but I'll smile no more.

LAERTES: Why so, my dear?

OPHELIA: I am unhappy i' love.

LAERTES: Not with th' Lord Hamlet, I pray.

OPHELIA: Aye, with him.

LAERTES: And why art thou at Elsinore, not home?

'Twas not to wait for me to come, methinks.

Wert waiting for thy Hamlet to arrive?

OPHELIA: Even so, and yet he does not come.

LAERTES: Here comes he now!

_[A noise without. HORATIO and HAMLET pull up in their car blasting Fall Out Boy and get out, both with Starbucks drinks.]_

HORATIO:... and so I said to her, “'tis my mistake!

My lady, I am not what you expect;

Halt, at your own -”

HAMLET: But soft. We're not alone.

LAERTES: Well met, Hamlet, and good Horatio.

HAMLET: Good day, Laertes. Fair Ophelia.

OPHELIA: _[aside]_ He call'd me fair! What means this special phrase?

HORATIO: Good day, my friends. You've caught me in the midst

Of a most thrilling narrative – the way

I chanced to kiss a most lovely young thing,

Only to find -

HAMLET: Not now, Horatio.

Laertes, thou art just returned from England.

What thinkest thou of that fair scepter'd isle?

LAERTES: 'Tis rightly called, my lord.

HAMLET: What, scepter'd?

LAERTES: Fair.

But thou, too, hast returned from a journey,

Though one more brief than mine, I think. Where was't?

HAMLET: In town with Horatio.

OPHELIA: Lord Hamlet!

HAMLET: Good day, Ophelia. What say'st thou?

OPHELIA: Nothing, my lord.

HAMLET: Thy Nothing's very sweet.

HORATIO: _[aside to Hamlet]_ Tread soft, my friend. Thou know'st I hear thee well,

And well I know Ophelia loves thee.

HAMLET: I know it too, and yet I cannot bear

To let her think I love her not at all.

HORATIO: But dost thou love her?

HAMLET: Nay, not very well.

OPHELIA: My lord, art thou quite well?

HAMLET: Quite well, Ophelia, but I must go.

Horatio, accompany me indoors.

_[Exeunt HAMLET and HORATIO]_

OPHELIA: Well, there thou hast it, brother dear – the Prince

Loves not this lowly maid, or loves indeed;

I cannot read the changes of his soul,

Which, like the tide, do turn perpetually,

But not regularly, unlike the tide –

The tide turns with the moon, but Hamlet's love

Waxes and wanes and changes like the wind.

LAERTES: Perhaps his ways do change by the Moon's wind:

There has been talk that he's a lunatic.

OPHELIA: Talk by whom?

LAERTES: Our father, for a start.

OPHELIA: He's just as much a madman as the Prince,

Or perhaps something worse – a daft old fool.

Our father's vice is that he cannot see

The one he calls mad's only mad as he.

LAERTES: But think'st thou not that Hamlet is not well?

OPHELIA: As sane as any man goes on two legs,

Which is not sane at all, as thou well know'st.

Woman's the only creature who has wits.

Would that my love could be deployed to her!

I'd never bother with thy stranger sex.

LAERTES: Aye, would too that woman could sway my heart;

Thou know'st not how thy words do strike the mark,

So let me make it known to you in brief.

En route to England I traversed through France

(The land of Lovers, as you well have heard)

And there confirm'd the theory you propose:

Men, my dear sister, are like Mercury;

But though as flighty, still yet quite as fair.

I cannot give thee blame for loving them,

Nor yet for loving Hamlet: he's a man

Well worth thy loving, by his face alone;

Ten thousand times the more by his good soul.

OPHELIA: Laertes, dearest brother, thou dost speak

Almost as if thou lovest him thyself;

But, O! my reason (the gift of my sex)

Tells me that it is impossible.

How overbless'd in love Hamlet would be

To take two lovers of th' same progeny.

LAERTES: Indeed he would, but me he'll never take.

Our father saw to't long ago, by chance;

He spread the lie to Hamlet and the Queen

That I was unsettled by his company,

And did not wish to share it any more.

Since then I have forborne all intercourse

With Hamlet, purely for our father's sake.

OPHELIA: I did not know if this, my brother dear.

'Tis sad indeed our father cannot see

The goodness of a way that brings thee joy.

LAERTES: There's nothing to be done.

England was lief, a time of liberty,

For I was free of his watchful command;

But now I'm home, I'll go in secrecy.

'Tis sweet to know my sister stands by me.

OPHELIA: For ever, brother. Let's now to the hall –

I hear the bells that toll the dinner-call.

_End scene_

_Scene iii_

_Hamlet is standing alone in an empty hall of the castle, while the others are at dinner. He is Sad on Main. He's probably wearing an MCR t-shirt._

HAMLET: I cannot heed the supper-call – I dare not!

I'd die before I'd suffer at the board

Together with my King, my Queen, and Fool,

And the fool's children, both of whom love me;

Horatio is not there – he's inside,

And cannot give me respite from the press

Of all that dull monotony. Dear God,

I'll die before I spend another hour

In such abysmal company. But then,

I'd die before I'd do things of less pains;

I'd die sooner than live. I told the doctor

That what I feared in death is that which follows;

But now I am not certain. Now, I fear

To leave my friend to draw his breath in pain,

The good Horatio, in my absence;

I fear to wound him by depriving him

Of my worldly existence; deeper still,

I do not truly wish to part with him,

And that, this meager vestige of Life-will,

Frightens me further; many months have passed

Since Hamlet felt a conviction to be,

And ne'er did think I'd find it in my friend

Horatio, whom I assumed was lost

To one of life's distractions, and forgot

The friend who loved him best. Horatio,

I love thee deeper than thou e'er canst know.

But soft! I hear a noise approach, I think.

_Enter MARCELLUS and BERNARDO._

BERNARDO: Good my Lord Hamlet, well met, be you well -

MARCELLUS: We come to bring you tidings most uncouth -

BERNARDO: This night, sir, as we stood out on our watch,

A ghost appeared to us!

HAMLET: A ghost, you say?

MARCELLUS: Aye, a ghost!

HAMLET: And what form did it take?

'Twas not my father's ghost, to be most sure.

MARCELLUS: No, not at all, Lord Hamlet. It had the shape

Of a tall man, very like Oscar Wilde.

HAMLET: The playwright?

BERNARDO: Nay, the boulevardier.

HAMLET: Where last appeared this ghost? Take me to it.

MARCELLUS: We will, my Lord.

BERNARDO: 'Twould be our greatest wish.

_Exeunt_

_Enter HORATIO, visibly frazzled, running into the room that Hamlet has just vacated, slightly out of breath._

HORATIO: O, to be sure, I thought I'd find you here,

My lord Hamlet, but instead thy ghost

Lingers; nay, not thy ghost of death,

The ghost, the shadow of thy presence near.

Unless I am mistaken, thou wast here

Ere very long; I think I catch thy scent

Still fresh upon the air. What sweet fragrance!

I'd know it anywhere, since first I marked 't

Light on the breeze in the Wittenburg quad.

I doubt thou would'st remember that sweet day

When first we were united, when, en route

To my psych lecture, I ran headfirst

Into thee, who ran the other way.

But I remember it with clarity;

A hundred thousand times I have replayed

The memory, in rose hues, in my head,

Thought of the moment, and the hands of Fate

That guided us so sweetly to that place

Of blithe collision in the campus quad.

Still sometimes I imagine, in dead night,

Where I would be if I had ne'er met you;

Those visions are veritable nightmares

Even as I wake. But what of yours?

A thousand times more poignant than a dream

Is my suspicion that thou lovest not me.

Thou had said thou hold'st me in thy heart,

But how deep is thy heart? Thy heart of hearts?

What is within it, if not life itself,

And all thine other hatreds? Thou dost hate

To be alive, thou say'st; yet art not dead.

Methinks thy words devout conviction lack,

Else Death would hold thee closer than do I.

And if thy hate lacks conviction, thy Love

(The more difficult emotion) also must.

And yet I cannot full deceive myself –

My heart, my soul, my spirit, clings to hope

That e'en as with every breath I worship thee,

Likewise hast some tender love for me.

_End Scene_

_Scene iv_

_MARCELLUS, BERNARDO, and HAMLET are outside on the battlements after nightfall, waiting for the ghost._

HAMLET: Forsooth, 'tis very cold.

BERNARDO: It is, my lord.

HAMLET: Has thou a jacket? Pray thee, lend it me.

MARCELLUS: Hush now, sirs, hush! For here he comes.

_[Ominous footsteps.]_

HAMLET: I hear him come!

_Enter Ghost, wearing a giant feathery Spanish hat and a sequined cloak which glimmers and glints fabulously in the moonlight as he struts across the battlements. Actor, you may throw in a couple drag queen dance moves if you're feeling sexy. You invariably will be. Come on, you're playing Oscar Wilde's ghost. You've got to be sexy._

BERNARDO: Marcellus, look thee on. His garb is fine.

MARCELLUS: Most like a _flaneur_ of excelling taste.

BERNARDO: He is exceeding tall, yet also kind.

MARCELLUS: Imposing, and yet fair.

BERNARDO: Somber, yet gay.

HAMLET: Silence, good sirs. I would hear what he says.

Good sir, who are you, if I may be bold?

You appear effervescence, not of flesh,

And yet your very presence proves you are.

If I were more a man of superstition,

I'd say you were the author, Oscar Wilde

Himself arisen from the dead. But Reason

Holds my tongue. Well, will you speak?

GHOST: My dear boy Hamlet, thou art not deceived.

Oscar Wilde is me, and I am him;

At least I was, before still Death took me,

But now I am returned. As you have heard,

Those with unfinished business at their deaths

May walk the Earth again. My deeds undone,

I seek to finish them and go to rest.

HAMLET: 'Tis most like your tale of Sir Canterville.

GHOST: Most like – hast read it? And what didst thou think?

HAMLET: The way he spoke of death was very sweet,

As lovers speak of lovers.

GHOST: That's the way

That Death whispers to us.

HAMLET: I know it well.

GHOST: I am most pleased to hear thou like'st my tale.

HAMLET: I did. What is your undone business, then?

Surely not to discuss fiction with me.

GHOST: Assuredly not, appealing as it is.

I came to give you news of Claudius

And his friend Polonius. Very dear

They seem to one another, do you think?

HAMLET: Exceeding.

GHOST: Then would'st not be surprised

If I revealed they shared more than friendship?

HAMLET: What, a wife?

GHOST: Nay, but a lack thereof.

HAMLET: How know you this?

GHOST: By careful surveyance.

HAMLET: And have you proof?

GHOST: Proceed tomorrow night

To the hall at supper, and mark them close.

If thou can'st devise any more sure method

To discern their feelings, orchestrate it;

But watch them close, and see how their eyes meet.

Their guilt shall be proved by their very love.

HAMLET: Good Ghost, Lord Wilde, you cannot be thanked

In sufficient abundance to meet your worth.

GHOST: If thou wilt show thy chamber, Lord Hamlet,

To me, perhaps thou wilt be proven wrong.

HAMLET: Alas, good sir, the proposition's fine,

But my heart is elsewhere occupied for now.

I pray you will be free of your earthly bonds

Ere very long, and go soon to your rest.

GHOST: I thank thee, Hamlet. To thy purpose!

_Exit Ghost with a flash of lightning and to the soundtrack of Fat Bottomed Girls by Queen._

MARCELLUS: What was 't, Lord?

HAMLET: You heard as well as I.

BERNARDO: Most like a man, and yet a ghost!

MARCELLUS: And seeming so alert!

BERNARDO: What did you mean, my lord Hamlet, in saying

Your heart is elsewhere occupied for now?

Who occupies it?

HAMLET: 'Tis not your affair.

MARCELLUS: Will you go tomorrow night as he advised?

HAMLET: I shall. But now I must away

To devise my plans.

_Exit HAMLET_

_End scene_


	3. Act III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've no idea how hard I'm trying to post consistently, my dudes. I have no energy to proofread this, so please forgive any errors.

_ACT III, Scene I_

_Ophelia is sitting on her bed wearing a tank top and no trousers, surrounded by daisy petals she's been picking off, and crumpled pieces of paper with middle-schooler style hearts containing “H+O” in them (and yea it's supposed to spell Hoe)._

OPHELIA: It is decided, then; my mind is made;

I'll go tonight to Hamlet, and with courage

Confess my love to him, which cannot die.

If he refuses, at least I am absolved

Of all obligation to honesty;

If he accepts, I am a happy woman.

I have few hopes, but no alternative.

_[Knocking at the door]_

Who is't?

HAMLET _[from outside]_ : 'Tis I, Hamlet.

OPHELIA _[aside]:_ Our minds are of the same! He comes to me!

Yea, good lord Hamlet, the door is opened.

_[Enter Hamlet]_

HAMLET: Ah, my good lady, I see thou art not dress'd.

I'll leave thee be until thy modesty

Is fit to bear my company.

OPHELIA: Not yet!

I have still much to say to you, my lord,

and care not a breath's worth for my pride;

Thou know'st, upon my honor, I'm no slag.

HAMLET: I know, fair lady. I too bear thee news.

OPHELIA: Who shall go first?

HAMLET: The women always lead.

OPHELIA: Ah, thou trapp'st me with thy courtesy!

See how I blush to speak. I've dream'd of this

Moment for some weeks, nay, months – nay, years!

But always have I balked to speak my mind

Before a man of rank such as thyself,

A man whom my tidings chiefly concern.

HAMLET: Say them, lady; speed will render 't painless.

OPHELIA: Very well, I'll say 't. I love thee.

HAMLET: I love thee too, lady; and so thy brother does,

And thy father, and my uncle too;

Thou art well loved in Elsinore.

OPHELIA: I mean,

My lord, I love thee with that heart

Which maids reserve for matrimony; that fire

Which burns th' impassion'd cheek; that glowing heat

Which, left unrequited and unchequed,

Vexes to madness th' limbs of intellect.

HAMLET: Ha! Thou art in love with me!

OPHELIA: My lord,

I beg of you, mock not my open heart.

'Twould be the death of it.

HAMLET: Mock? I do not mock;

Or if I do, not thee; I mock the gods

That made me love not thee, and made thee love

A man who cannot give th' affections back.

OPHELIA: Laertes says thy love's already spent;

To whom, he'd say not. I prayed it was a lie.

Is 't true, my lord?

HAMLET: Yea, but in confidence

This I impart. I love Horatio.

OPHELIA: And so do I, and so my brother too,

And every man at Elsinore.

HAMLET: Not thus

Do I love him; but as thou hast outlined

With greatest eloquence is my heart giv'n

To my compatriot.

OPHELIA: My lord, I see.

HAMLET: Art thou angered by it?

OPHELIA: No, my lord,

But disappointed. I could not have guessed

Thy heart was swayed thus. Thou hast hidden 't

Most cleverly.

HAMLET: Alas, Ophelia,

That I felt that I must sequester it.

For many of my years (thou canst not know

How those years tortured me), this love was like

To a beast that I kept hid within

Some chamber of my heart, caged and shackled,

Never to escape or to be seen

For fear of what the world would say or do.

But good Horatio, when we were met,

Took to those bars with fire of pure love,

And so destroyed them, freeing my poor beast;

I could not then restrain him any more,

But let him wander free.

OPHELIA: Art thou more free?

HAMLET: I think so, but my heart is always plagued

With other illnesses than despised love.

OPHELIA: What illnesses, my lord?

HAMLET: Despondency,

Moroseness, sadness, illness, madness, woe,

And all manner of the like thou canst imagine.

OPHELIA: My lord, I am sorry to know how thou sufferest.

HAMLET: And I sorry to suffer so. And yet,

Horatio's aid hath been immeasurable,

And I have sought professional attention.

OPHELIA: Good, my lord. My lord, think'st thou it odd

My father and the king are on such terms

So as they seem to ne'er part company?

Why smilest thus?

HAMLET: Ophelia, I know more than thou thinkst;

I was met yesternight with such a vision

As would shake thy very knowledge of the world.

I saw (and to this my friends will attest)

A ghost – the very likeness of a man

Long gone from earth.

OPHELIA: Who was it?

HAMLET: Oscar Wilde!

OPHELIA: It cannot be!

HAMLET: So said I, yet it was.

He told me – the ghost, that is – thy father

And my uncle were in such a union

As I am with Horatio.

OPHELIA: Dost thou believe him?

HAMLET: It seems possible.

What think'st thou?

OPHELIA: It would be very strange,

But not out of the realm of possibility.

Hast thou any way to prove the ghost's claim?

HAMLET: I have thought on 't since last night, and concluded

That the most sure way we might test the claim

Would be to put the two in such a place

As they would be confronted with the very thing

They question in themselves.

OPHELIA: What means my lord?

HAMLET: Subject them to a form of that great love,

And watch their countenances. If they blush,

Or turn away, or frown, glance, or meet eyes,

They are confirm'd, and we vindicated.

Here is the thing! We'll play for them a song –

YMCA by the Village People –

And watch how they react! A normal man

Would put his arms up and form the lett'rs

As all men do; but a man who hides

Will sit stone still, and wait in agony

Until the song is done. We two will watch!

Come on; I'll tell Horatio our plan.

It will be done tonight. Be thou prepared!

_[Exit HAMLET]_

_End Scene_

_Scene ii_

_In the great hall at Elsinore. Ophelia and Hamlet are sitting together. They're waiting for the Village People to arrive. Hamlet used some of his royal princely money to fund the Village People to fly out and perform YMCA in the flesh. He's really going the full mile._

OPHELIA: Good evening, lord.

HAMLET: I told Horatio

What our plan was. He will soon be here.

OPHELIA: To watch with us my father and the king?

HAMLET: Marry. Here he comes to us now.

_[Enter HORATIO]_

HORATIO: Good evening, Hamlet. Fair Ophelia.

I wait with baited breath this evening

To see the faces of my lord the King

And this thy father, good Polonius.

HAMLET: Do they approach?

HORATIO: I pass'd them in the hall.

They'll be here soon, I think, and so will all.

_[Enter CLAUDIUS, GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, and VARIOUS RETAINERS. They take seats in front of the stage.]_

CLAUDIUS: We are most anxious for this performance.

Our son Hamlet says it shall be great.

GERTRUDE: Indeed, the band is one of great repute.

POLONIUS: Think you, my lord the king, that this band

Shall be as good as other bands you've scene?

CLAUDIUS: Whom, in particular, do you mean?

POLONIUS: I know not, sir; I had not thought in depth

Before I spoke. But I recall you said, upon a time,

You took a great liking to Liza Minnelli.

HAMLET _[Aside to HORATIO]:_ No man who e'er took woman to his bed

Listened to Liza's music without shame.

POLONIUS: Here come the singers now.

_[Enter the Village People onstage. They play the entirety of YMCA. Everyone does the arms except Claudius and Polonius. The song ends.]_

HAMLET: What thought you, Horatio?

HORATIO: 'Twas most strange.

In all my years I've never seen a man

Who raised not his arms at that chorus.

Ophelia, didst see?

OPHELIA: Indeed, my lords;

My father and the king like statues stood,

Stone-still and silent, with no spark of joy

Upon their faces, but passivity.

HAMLET: We'll stay behind the arras to observe

The color in the elder lords' two faces;

Go, retainers! The king is weary;

Polonius will see him to his rest.

 _[Aside]_ Come, Ophelia, Horatio,

Behind this arras let's obscure ourselves.

_[Exeunt Retainers and Village People, leaving only Claudius, Polonius, and Gertrude.]_

CLAUDIUS: Fair Gertrude, I see weariness in thine eyes –

Go you to our bedchamber and sleep!

I'll be a moment with Polonius

To talk of matters unbefitting you.

GERTRUDE: What matters, my love?

CLAUDIUS: Those of business

Most dull to you.

GERTRUDE: Goodnight, my sweet king.

_[Exit Gertrude]_

CLAUDIUS: We are alone now, good Polonius.

What thought thee of that musical display?

POLONIUS: 'Twas most uncommon, my lord king, and strange;

I had not thought that Hamlet would be one

To listen to such common popular tunes –

You know his love for dark and heavy bands

Whose names I can recall only as being

Morose and morbid. Never did I expect

Hamlet to listen to the Village People!

And yet, it seems somehow not out of place

Or character that he might.

CLAUDIUS: I spoke not of the prince Hamlet, my lord,

But the musical performance in itself,

And the surrounding circumstances.

Did Hamlet intend for us to see 't so?

Did he contrive it in some secret thought,

And why did he mark us so shrewdly

The whole way through, as he were

Watching us, and not the Village Men?

POLONIUS: The Village People, my lord. I understand,

But I do not think Lord Hamlet meant us harm

Or slight by way of his observation.

CLAUDIUS: Slight or harm? Perhaps neither of these;

But suspicion was as surely in his eyes

As sunlight in the day. I saw him squint

And glow'r and frown and tap Horatio

On the shoulder, and whisper something in his ear.

POLONIUS: Perhaps your own suspicion, my good king,

Magnified th' expressions in his face,

Or twisted your view of his outward visage

To hold a thought which rose not from within.

CLAUDIUS: I do not think 'tis so. I think he knows.

POLONIUS: Knows what, my lord?

CLAUDIUS: Thou know'st as well as he.

HAMLET _[Aside to Horatio and Ophelia]_ : Hear that! 'Tis _thou_ and _thee,_ not you.

POLONIUS: Know what, my king? The love that we two share?

CLAUDIUS: As well as I, my lord; the threads that run

Between our hearts like nets, ever entwining:

Arachne's webs of golden tapestry

And purple thread, more splendid than Athene's,

Unite our hearts in perfect constancy,

Constricting them to unison and time

Of perfect harmony, more true and strict

Than any I have shared with man or woman

In all my years; not even with my queen

Have I hald such a love as that for thee.

HORATIO [ _aside]:_ Then 'tis confirm'd!

_[Polonius and Claudius kiss]_

OPHELIA: O help me! Strike me blind!

HAMLET: Come now, Ophelia. We'll get thee gone

Before we're marked. Then go thee to the queen

And tell her what thou 'st watched unfold this night.

Thy female gentleness shall soothe the blow;

My mother'd rather hear from thee than me.

But we'll go quick! Horatio, her hand.

_[They each take Ophelia by the hand and, while Claudius and Polonius are distractedly with the making out, Hamlet, Horatio, and Ophelia flee from behind the arras, holding hands in a train like preschoolers.]_

POLONIUS [ _breaking apart from CLAUDIUS]_ : My lord, such passion seems not to befit

A man of such an age as thee! And yet,

This our sweet secret hold I dear and close;

How good to think that none shall ever know!

_End Scene_

_Scene iii_

_Gertrude is sitting on her fancy queen bed in her fancy queen room when Ophelia rushes in._

GERTRUDE: My dear Ophelia, well met – are you unwell?

OPHELIA: My lady, I am ill at heart to be

The bearer of ill news such as I bear.

GERTRUDE: What is it, girl?

OPHELIA: Thy son, his friend, and I

Stay'd in the room tonight behind an arras

And watch'd my father and your husband th' king;

We saw and heard: we watched them pledge their love,

And King Claudius told my father that his love

Was greater than the love he had for you.

GERTRUDE: Surely his words were perfectly innocent;

He meant, perhaps, he loves him as a friend,

And loves me as a queen. The two cannot

Be counted comparable.

OPHELIA: My lady, I wish

That I could vindicate those words;

But Hamlet, Horatio, and I did see

From behind the arras; we watch'd my father

And King Claudius embrace and share a kiss

Of prolonged passion and lustful appetite.

You know I would not seek with idle words

To harm your happiness, and these words least;

I was no happier to see my father

In such a state, than are you glad to learn

Of your husband's infidelity.

Your son and Horatio will attest to 'it.

GERTRUDE: I do not doubt your integrity, dear girl,

Nor the verity of what you say.

I weep because I've lost a second husband.

I did not love Claudius very well, and yet,

He was a tolerable substitute

When King Hamlet was laid at last to rest;

And now I've lost them both, and shall not gain

Another husband ere my dying day.

OPHELIA: My lady, I do well understand your plight;

I've seen my father prov'd a hypocrite.

For all my life, my brother lived in fear

Of what my father'd say were he aware

Of Laertes' peculiar preferences. Furthermore,

My father often spoke disdainful words

Of what he called “the Grecian vice,” that is –

Well, you know of what I speak. How can it be

That my father so viciously berated

All the while committing the sin himself?

GERTRUDE: The fiercest sinners, thinking themselves saints,

Oft'times are over-quick to cast the stone.

OPHELIA: You understand the world, I think, my Queen.

You are more wise than e'er were giv'n credit.

GERTRUDE: I quickly learn'd to remain silent

When faced with deaf and unaccepting ears.

OPHELIA: My lady, I hope that you will find

My ears are never deaf to these your words,

Your wise and tender, sweet and gentle words.

_[They gaze longingly at one another for a little too long]_

GERTRUDE: You should leave me now, my sweet lady.

I'll take a while to ponder on my grief.

OPHELIA: Goodnight, my Queen. My heart remains with you.

_Exit OPHELIA_

_Scene iv_

_[CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS, standing in the corridor outside of one of the palace ballrooms. HAMLET and HORATIO are standing in the corridor on the opposite side of the room.]_

POLONIUS: I've had a stroke of inspiration, my lord,

Yea, a marry stroke of clever genius;

One might, if one were feeling very bold,

Name it brilliance. Would'st thou, my lord,

Consider me a very brilliant man?

CLAUDIUS: Nevermind, Polonius; tell the plan.

POLONIUS: Oh, yes, my lord. Here is the clever plan.

Methinks that Hamlet and his darling friend

Did watch us behind th' arras yesternight;

That is why thy queen grew sad and cold

To thee; and my daughter'd not speak to me.

I have, on good authority,

That Hamlet and Horatio this hour

Will find themselves i' th' very next room to us,

Just beyond this door. If we go forth

Before they arrive, and hide behind th' arras,

We'll watch them, and perhaps we shall observe

The very thing they saw of us yesternight.

CLAUDIUS: Perhaps thou art brilliant indeed, my friend.

Let's go behind the arras and await.

_[Claudius and Polonius enter the room and obscure themselves behind an arras]_

_[HAMLET and HORATIO, talking in the opposite corridor]_

HORATIO: I think they've both gone in, and hid themselves

Behind the arras. Here's the plan devised

By us last night. We enter amorously,

As if we were in love, and make a show

Of being united in the selfsame way

That Polonius and thy uncle are united.

Our pretense must be convincing.

HAMLET: 'T will be rightly hilarious to see

The look upon their faces when, tonight,

We come to dinner, and they think they know

Some dreadful secret that we share, and gape

In petrifactive awe at our visages.

HORATIO: Come, let us now go in.

_[They walk into the room, holding hands, and then continue in very affected voices.]_

HAMLET: Oh, Horatio, thou gorgeous wild thing,

Thou can'st not know mine eyes have thee pursued

In thine every step – as thou walked or ran

Or played at fencing, or skipped across the green

Like a carefree child; I have watched thee in thy speech

And heard thine every word, and traced those lips

With these my fingers, a thousand thousand times

In the darkened closet of my thoughtful mind.

HORATIO: Oh, Hamlet, thou untethered force of love,

Thou hast drawn me as a compass to a pole,

A butterfly to a flow'r, a moth to flame;

I've seen those brooding eyes, and in my dreams

Been carressed by them in every secret place

And kiss'd the slender fingers with my lips.

HAMLET: Then let these dreams no longer be confin'd

To your imaginings and fancied thoughts.

Here is my hand, and longing to be kissed;

Each finger aching for your soft'ning lips.

_[HORATIO tenderly yet sexily kisses HAMLET's hand.]_

CLAUDIUS _[aside to POLONIUS]:_ So it is true! The two men are in love.

POLONIUS: I could not have mistaken their longing looks.

HORATIO: My lord prince Hamlet, thy pale slender fingers

Are indeed true paragons of sweetness;

But, methinks, if I am not mistak'n,

They are but mimicries of those thy lips.

HAMLET: These my lips grow weary of the waiting

To be tasted, and to taste in turn of yours.

_[They kiss very tenderly]_

CLAUDIUS: O good God, I must now turn away;

I cannot watch my nephew and his friend

United in unholy lustful sin.

POLONIUS: It does seem hardly meet to stay and watch,

I must confess; 'tis sure to be consid'red

Invasion of some intimate privacy.

_[Exeunt CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS]_

_[HAMLET and HORATIO continue making out for a little too long]_

HORATIO: Have they gone?

HAMLET: We cannot be too sure.

HORATIO: The wisest course of action would, I think,

Be to continue until we're sure they've gone.

_[They keep making out, more sexily than before.]_

_[End scene]_


End file.
